


later in a maintenance closet

by onfims



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4283679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onfims/pseuds/onfims
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>vic's beard makes him look like a stretched out guy fieri but henry fucks him anyway</p>
            </blockquote>





	later in a maintenance closet

"You're still growing that?"

"Yeah, think I might keep it a while." Vic rubs at the goatee he's been cultivating over the past couple of weeks. "You like it?" His big grin indicates that he can already tell just how much Henry doesn't like it.

"I don't particularly care," Henry sighs, abandoning the folder he's reviewing as long as the security head is bothering him. His real opinion on the beard is that it makes Vic look like a celebrity chef with a penchant for diner food. Henry also finds it hilarious that he only started growing it after Owen Grady showed up, with his cool motorcycle, his level squint and his rugged stubble. Vic Hoskins' masculinity worship was so extreme it was hard to know whether he bore it with confidence, or if he noticed it at all.

Henry crosses the room, ostensibly to check on the blood cultures he has cycling, but also to herd Vic closer to the door. "Are you here for any reason in particular?" He swaps out some test tubes, leaning into Vic's personal space. 

Instead of moving, Vic looks down at Henry and shrugs in a long limbed, floppy gesture. "Just staying familiar with the place. It's my job."

Leaning away, Henry smiles like it tastes foul to do so. "Right," he says.

Later, in a maintenance closet, that beard is scraping the hell out of Henry's face. He pushes Vic away in frustration. The other man is already red and breathing heavily. Vic frowns, muttering, "aw—c'mon—," before leaning in again. 

He's not getting the hint, so Henry grabs Vic by the hair. It's just barely long enough but he gets a good, hard grip and holds the bigger man in place. 

In response, Vic gasps in the back of his throat and instantly gets rock hard against Henry's hip. Fingers still clenched on cropped grey hair, Henry sighs. He doesn't have time for this. Pulling just a bit harder to get some distance between them, he reaches down and starts yanking Vic's pants open.

"Whoa, hey, alright," Vic laughs, even more breathless, and follows Henry's motions with his hips. He holds his own hands up by his shoulders palms out, not helping like a dick. Henry jerks Vic's boxers down more roughly than he needs to, squeezes his cock and starts stroking.

"I am not going to tomorrow's shareholder meeting with beard burn all over my face," Henry hisses, setting a rough pace that makes Vic's eyes roll back even as he winces a little. He's squirming, so Henry yanks harder on his handful of hair. This just makes Vic groan way, way too loud. Forget beard burn if the whole goddamn park can hear them.

Henry lets his cock go, but uses his grip on Vic's hair to start pulling him down. "Blow me and I'll let you come," Henry snaps. Vic goes to his knees too quickly, middle aged joints cracking, and opens Henry's pants without any encouragement. His mouth is hot and he's sloppy, slurping and gulping as his head bobs. Henry feels his orgasm lurch closer with every disgusting sound, every time he looks down to see Vic staring up at him with glazed eyes, lips stretched around his cock. He moves his grip to the longer hair on top of Vic's head and uses it to pull him back and forth, faster and faster.

When Henry comes, hissing through his teeth, Vic splutters around him and pulls back with a little cough. After a second, though, he swallows and looks up at Henry with a big smile. His own pants are still open and his cock is bobbing between his thighs. He holds it as he gets to his feet, starting to stroke.

"My turn?" Vic asks, crowding against Henry, all eager eyes and wet mouth, apparently seconds from just humping Henry's leg. He smells like come and sweat. Grabbing Vic's hair again, Henry flips him around to press his front against the concrete wall. Wordlessly, he grips Vic's cock again and starts stroking. 

"I don't want to look at your stupid beard," Henry grunts. He's still floating a little on his own orgasm, and holding Vic down as he struggles feels like the easiest thing in the world.

"Ah, shit," Vic is panting against the wall, "Jesus...fuckin' Christ." His eyes squeeze shut and his head dips down, hips jerking against Henry's hand with less and less rhythm. "I'm gonna come," he says, voice pitching up into a whine. Henry shoves him flush against the wall, leaving just enough room for his hand to keep moving. His other hand covers Vic's mouth in time to stifle most of the moan that escapes the other man as he comes.

As soon as Vic stops shaking, Henry steps back. He moves to tuck his shirt in but stops to frown at the mess on his hand. In front of him, Vic is leaning back against the wall, breathing hard through a smile. He flicks his eyes down at the come on Henry's fingers with that familiar eager expression on his face. Sneering, Henry offers his hand and Vic grabs him by the wrist to lick his own come away. He makes eye contact and Henry raises an eyebrow at him.

"You're disgusting," Henry says, pulling his hand back clean but for some drying spit.

Vic wipes his mouth on his arm, still god damn grinning. "You got me there."


End file.
